


Maternal Matchmaking

by afteriwake



Series: Meddlesome [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 22:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4455740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Holmes is out browsing the flower stalls during the Sunday market when she unknowingly runs into Molly. Knowing that this is the woman that her youngest son just can't stop talking about, she decides to play matchmaker and arrange to do what her son simply hasn't done yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maternal Matchmaking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisherz365](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisherz365/gifts).



> So I put out an open call for anyone to request fluffy Sherlolly fic and I got two anonymous requests with no prompts, so I decided to write up some headcanons from Tumblr user **[daisherz365](http://sincerelydayyy.tumblr.com/post/121058568910/let-there-be-headcanons-i)**. The one I chose for fic number one was _Mummy Holmes meeting Molly for the first time accidentally and letting it slip that Sherlock talks about her a lot. Mummy Holmes incidentally encouraging Molly to finally have that talk with her son._ Hopefully my anon requester enjoys it!

It wasn’t often Violet Holmes had reason to come to London anymore. She knew her sons who lived there led busy lives, lives that revolved around their own pursuits and interests. Mikey had his position in the government, and that took up so much of his time and energy, but really, he did a phenomenal job, and she couldn’t be prouder of him. And William…no, Sherlock. He preferred Sherlock now. Anyway, her youngest did so much assisting the police with their cases, despite the problems that tended to cause. The notoriety had all died down, though, and now that he was not dead and those two dreadful men who had caused such a mess of things in his life were dispatched to the great beyond she hoped his life would settle down a bit. She rather hoped maybe _he_ would settle down a bit, stop living such a wild and dangerous life. Maybe give her grandchildren since Mycroft and his charming assistant were never going to get around to it.

She always made it a point to go to the Sunday Up Market at Brick Lane when she was able to, to explore the different things on sale there, and hit part of the Columbia Road Flower Market. She was at a stall, leaning over to examine some avalanche roses that she thought Martha would enjoy, when she heard someone come up behind her. “Oh, those are lovely flowers,” she heard a woman say towards her, and so she turned to the woman who had spoken. She seemed young but not too young, with her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and a warm sparkle in her eyes to match the smile on her face. “I was thinking about getting some for my flat.”

“I think there’s enough here for us to each get a dozen,” Violet said with a smile of her own. She took in more of the woman’s appearance. She had on a jumper with a cherry motif, nothing too garish but not understated, either, and a pair of denim trouser that fit well enough. She imagined if the woman was in a dress and her hair was down she might look quite lovely. Perhaps she could interest her son? It wouldn’t hurt to attempt to play matchmaker a bit. “These look like the kind of flowers that might be nice for a date.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Even though these are gorgeous, I’d rather get a bouquet of lilies. Or maybe some lilies with those.” She pointed to some grand prix roses. “That’d be a lovely mix.”

“Do you get flowers often?” Violet asked.

The woman shook her head. “Not really. I haven’t dated much since my engagement ended. It hasn’t been…” She trailed off. “I suppose it hasn’t been safe to.”

Violet paused. “Was your fiancé an abusive man?” she asked gently.

The woman’s eyes got wide. “What? Oh, no, Tom wouldn’t hurt a fly. No, I’m friendly with someone who had a very powerful enemy. Do you know who Sherlock Holmes is?” 

At that moment it all clicked and Violet got a wide smile on her face. “As a matter of fact, I do. Quite well, actually.” She extended her hand. “I’m Violet Holmes. His mother. You must be Molly Hooper.”

Molly’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Oh, yes, I am,” she said, reaching over to shake Violet’s hand. She seemed so embarrassed, poor child. “How did you know who I was?”

“Sherlock talks about you quite often, in rather glowing terms,” Violet said. She watched as Molly began to blush more deeply. “You are very important to him. When he was sequestered at our home for the three weeks that it took for Mikey to track down that dreadful Moriarty chap I heard Sherlock badgering his brother about your wellbeing quite often. Much more than he did John or Mary or any of his other friends.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said quietly. “I suppose he worried about me because I was more vulnerable, and because I was a bigger target.”

“You were responsible for him being able to fake his death, weren’t you?” she asked, and Molly nodded. Violet acted on impulse and hugged the woman, who seemed surprised. “Thank you for that. Even though I grieved for him and that hurt, getting an unexpected second chance means so much.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, relaxing and hugging Violet back.

“Let me buy you the flowers, and maybe treat you to lunch,” Violet said when she pulled away. 

“All right,” Molly said with a nod and a smile. Violet signaled to the vendor and she ended up buying two dozen of each type of roses, six of the calla lilies and a dozen protea roses for Molly as well, for her to make as many arrangements as she could. Then they made their way into the crowds until they ended up deciding to eat at Srilankan Spice. Violet ordered prawn curry while Molly got lamb curry, and they sat down to relax. “So why are you in London?”

“My husband and I thought it was time to pay a visit to our boys. They keep putting us off, but I think we managed to have the both of them pinned down for dinner tomorrow night at Marcus Wareing at The Berkeley,” she said. “Mikey set it up and I believe he’s blackmailing Sherlock into it.”

Molly chuckled. “Yes, that does sound an awful lot like those two,” she said.

“You should come as well,” she said. “Mikey very rarely goes anywhere without Anthea, who is a lovely woman but doesn’t talk much, and as I’ve enjoyed our conversation so far it would be nice to have _someone_ to chat with while my sons snipe at each other and my husband plays peacekeeper.”

“I don’t know,” Molly said uncertainly. “I don’t know if Sherlock would want me there.”

Violet reached over for Molly’s hand. “I’m fairly sure my son has been trying to figure out a way of asking you out on a date for approximately eight months now. For all I know in his mind he might even have considered the two of you having gone out on some dates already. But I think he does care for you. He just doesn’t know how to _tell_ you.”

Molly shook her head. “We’re just friends.”

“Believe me when I say with as much as he talks about you, and the way he talks about you, Molly, he considers you to be more than just his friend.” Violet gave her an encouraging smile. “In fact, I can call him right now.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “No! No, it’s…it’s all right.” She was quiet for a moment. “Do you really think he fancies me?”

“Mothers intuition is rarely wrong,” Violet said with a smile, patting her hand.

“Perhaps I could see if he wouldn’t mind the company,” she said, removing her hand from under Violets and reaching for her mobile. Violet watched as she dialed what looked to be a familiar number, and listened in discreetly on the conversation. When Molly gave a surprised “Really?” at one point her smile grew wider, and soon Molly was making plans to indeed join Sherlock for his family dinner the next evening. Then Molly pulled the mobile away from her ear and held it out towards Violet. “He’d like to speak to you.”

Violet took the phone from her. “Yes, dear?”

“I am perfectly capable of setting up my own dates, thank you,” Sherlock said gruffly.

“Molly would be an old maid by the time you made your move,” Violet said, eliciting a small smile from Molly.

“Yes, well, I had the situation perfectly under control,” he said. “As it stands, your ploy worked. She’ll be at this dinner you and Father and Mycroft are forcing me to attend.”

“Well, since we’re out and there are nice stalls with clothing and whatnot, I’ll help ensure she’s breathtaking tomorrow,” Violet said. “You just make sure you’re suitably impressed.”

“I’d be suitably impressed if she had on sackcloth,” he grumbled, and then he paused. “Forget I said that.”

“Oh no, dear. Mothers never forget.”

“Mum…” he said, the tone of his voice pleading slightly.

“I’ll see you for tea this afternoon, William.”

“Sherlock.”

“Sherlock. Good-bye, dear.” She hung up and gave the mobile back to Molly. “I fully intend on having you look absolutely smashing. I’m thinking Paul Goby Vintage for your outfit, perhaps? And if the lovely jeweler I visited last time is still here, Black Pearl, we’ll have some lovely and unique jewelry to top off any outfit.” 

Molly smiled warmly. “You really don’t have to, Mrs. Holmes, but…thank you.”

“It’s nothing, dear. And please, call me Violet. I hope that in the future we’ll get to be _very_ close,” she said with a smile. Molly was exactly what she had hoped she’d be like, and if she could ensure that she and her youngest had a wonderful start to what she hoped would be a long and healthy and prosperous relationship then she was doing her absolute best as a mother, and that was what was expected of her.


End file.
